


Betrayal

by Silky_Tofu



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Breeding, Come Inflation, Ensemble Cast, F/F, F/M, Futanari, M/M, Magic, Monsters, Multi, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silky_Tofu/pseuds/Silky_Tofu
Summary: A group of adventurers banded together against great evil, but were blind to the darker machinations of one of their own.A vaguely DnD inspired collection of related stories about the unique fates of the various party characters. In other words, deranged smut with just enough plot to kick things off.





	1. Lyandra

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoy writing weird filth and my friends apparently enjoy reading it. After a session of DnD one night, a friend commented on how easy it would be to put together a party of characters that could satisfy all kinds of weird kinks in the sort of generic, off-the-shelf fantasy world that we were playing in. This is more or less the result. Each character will probably get chapters depending on which I need to write what I want.
> 
> MIND THE TAGS. I will try to keep up with them as I add new content, but assume that things are just going to be .... a lot. I'm hoping to explore different kinks and scenarios, all of them are predicated on the basic dark, non/dub-con themes that have set up this whole story. Its only going to get worse and weirder from there.
> 
> That being said I do adore comments and I'm basically going to be writing when the mood takes me. If you have any thoughts or ideas I would love to hear them, I have some general check boxes that I certainly want to hit and plan to (eventually, whenever) but this is pretty open ended and I'm sure I can jam some more specific kinks/scenarios in if I wanted to.

Lyandra woke to darkness and a pounding in her head that made her whole body feel weak and drained. The floor beneath her, wherever she was, was cold and slightly damp, consistent with the grey darkness of this foreign place. With a soft grunt she drew her arms up beneath her and pushed herself into a sitting position. It was a much greater effort than it should have been - she had a lithe, slim frame that was svelte and muscled from the trials of their adventures and the life she’d lead in her sylvan home before she’d agreed to join her cohorts.

It must have been some kind of dark magic.

The groggy fog in her mind cleared in a split second revelation of horror.

Had they been defeated then? The dragon had bested them?

No. That couldn’t be, their plan had been flawless. 

Kirael was convinced that the myth of the binding spells were true, the draconic bloodlines they had discovered in his family line were proof enough that dragons could be bound to mortal forms. He had lived his whole life before they had accidentally discovered the truth of his family’s history.

The magic was sound and Ephriam’s device had been perfect, after the mage had explained the intricate design even she had been convinced. There was no way the Dragon could have predicted their endgame: the spell to trap him had been imbued with the holiest of fire, divine power that should only have been able to heal and purify. Ephriam had been sure that the Dragon would never expect them to weaponize a holy force by channeling it through a demonic spell.

It was how he’d gotten Phia to agree to the whole plan in the first place. Their cleric had been immediately opposed to any sigil that would tie her divine magic to Vyssena’s demonic sorcery. But Ephriam had carved the sigil into an amulet and strung it around a leather cord for her to wear temporarily as a necklace and it had been by Vyssena’s own suggestion that he add a clause to the runes that required it to be strung around Phia’s neck by her own hands alone. Lyandra herself had been assuaged by this caveat, helped her to calm her prejudices of the sorceress and realize what they had to do for the greater good of the realm. When Phia was promised she would only be wearing the thing by her own consent and to defeat the greatest tyrant of their world, the cleric had finally agreed.

Vysenna’s insistence on Phia’s explicit agency in this part of their final plan had helped ease some of her own reservations about the arcane sorceress. As an elf, she had always had suspicions about the demonic bloodline that their sorceress possessed, and it had taken her much longer to come around to Vysenna’s presence in their cadre than any of the others. Even Phia. But the hell-touched sorceress had proved herself an ally.

What had gone wrong?

It was too dark in this dank, foreign place for even her elf-eyes to see clearly. Ro’yn would have fared better as a drow, but Lyandra was an elf of the surface lands. When she heard the sound of a door opening, heavy and wooden by the creaking sounds of it, she wrenched her head around. Her body jolted with the strain of the sudden movement but she could see nothing, just more of the shadowy darkness that had been in front of her.

Until the shadows started moving.

A wraith!

She should have expected one in such a wretched place as she had found herself. Lyandra reached out with her own magic, called to nature for its aid. The call went unanswered and her heart fell. There must be nothing of the natural world here, wherever she was.

Her heart fell as the shadowy, half-corporeal wraith slithered through the air towards her, sloughing off dark smoke as it moved. 

“Stay back foul creature!” She called, throwing her hands in front of her in a summoning that was as useless as her call had been. Her heartbeat quickened and panic began to well up inside her. Vyssena had always dealt with these hellish, arcane creatures before. Banishing them with the simplest of her spells. Lyandra would be grateful even for her presence right now. Any ally would do.

The creature was on her and Lyandra voice caught in her throat as she waited for the draining, sucking sensation of the Wraith wrenching her lifeforce away.

But it never came. 

Instead she felt herself lifted bodily from the floor.

“Wha-what? What is-” She babbled in confusion before one of the wraith’s tendrils wrapped around her mouth, silencing her.

She could only watch as she was carried away by the creature, arms and legs similarly bound by the wraith. Her heart was beating like a captured rabbit.

Lyandra took deep, forced breaths in and out through her nose trying anything to calm her nerves and slow the race of her pulse. The wraith had not covered her eyes so she could at least try to discern where she was and try to process a way to escape.

Her head still ached and there seemed to be a mist over her memories. What had happened? She had to find the others. They could escape and plan their next move. Lyandra could only hope Aiden was nearby. The warrior, though she had first thought him human, was god-touched. No arcane or demonic force could bind him. If she could find him he could save them all.

She nearly lost herself in hopeful planning, when the world suddenly went bright. She squinted her eyes, blinking rapidly against the sudden light. Then Lyandra fell to the floor as the Wraith dissolved, the shadow creature losing all form in the warm sunlight. 

Lyandra didn’t give a thought to the bruises she might have as she crawled forward, not even bothering to stand immediately, trying to take in her surroundings. She was in the wrecked cathedral where they had planned their battle with the dragon, the ancient stones of the half-fallen roof and shattered old pillars were cast in the red gold light of sunset.

Sunset? Where had the day gone? They had intended to set their plan in motion to move against their shared draconic enemy, Nelhemeth Eld, at dawn. What had happened?

Slowly, on legs shaking both from weariness and wariness, the elven woman stood. Finally looking at herself, intent on inspecting her body for the wounds she most assuredly felt, she gasped in surprise. Gone was the familiar, trusted traveling robe and cloak she wore, along with all of her equipment and pouches. Instead she wore a gossamer gown of some kind made of a light, flowing green fabric that was completely foreign to her. None the less it complemented the bright green of her eyes, her pale sylvan skin and her auburn hair.

Almost as though it had been chosen for her.

She marveled at the fabric, picking it up between her long-fingered hands before she gasped again and dropped the silky fabric immediately. Lyandra’s hands recoiled like springs to her chest, and she flushed with the sudden realization of just how translucent the fabric was. It covered nothing! Her cheeks burned as bright as the red of the sunset when she realized that the dusky pink of her nipples clearly stood out from her creamy pale skin.

This was some kind of joke!

The elven woman, her lithe and beautiful body all but bare for anyone to see, didn’t have much time at all to process this new revelation before she heard the sound of heavy footfalls. They were distinct on the age-worn steps of the cathedral, distinctly non-human. 

Lyandra’s eyes darted frantically around the vaulted space, hoping now that she had escaped she could summon her powers to her defense. Forgetting in her panic that she’d specifically been brought here…

But the figure that emerged into the cathedral, though monstrous indeed, quelled her fears somewhat. If not her shame. Naturally, the demure and modest elf was incredibly embarrassed the be caught wearing this… garment.

Hakar, the chieftain of the beast-man tribes of this continent, lowered his great, horned head to pass through the stone entryway. His hooves echoing on the stone.

Sworn-ally or not, Lyandra’s hands did not fall from efforts to hide her near-nakedness. At least her breasts were relatively small, as was common of her people, and could be concealed behind her hands. Her people and Hakar’s beast-men ilk had been sworn enemies for centuries, until the dragon had come and united them by virtue of a common threat. Even then, Vyssena had offered and indeed done most of the negotiating when Lyandra had firmly refused to parlay with a minotaur.

She didn’t regret the decision to leave the diplomacy to their sinisterly-pragmatic party member as she watched Hakar rake his eyes over her nubile body. He went so far even as to lick his lips with his long, bovine tongue.

“How dare you?” Lyandra squeaked, with all the poise she could manage in her current state. “I am of the great and oldest tribes of the Lythane and I will accept no such-”

The huge minotaur man continued his direct path towards her, laughing in a deep baritone. Hakar chuckled. “Oh ho, she hasn’t told you yet. This should be fun.”

The brazen beast man continued until he was well within her space, and it was only her racial pride that kept her from back stepping away from the creature. He was easily ten feet tall with hand and a half span horns on either side of his head. Her towered over her small frame. He didn’t have the usual battle axe slung over his shoulder though and while that should put her at ease there was something she felt as though she was missing that kept her on edge. The massive beast man wore only the necklaces and bracelets and adornments that marked him as Chieftain, along with the standard thick belt and leather loincloths that his people seemed to favor with their digitigrade legs.

Perhaps she should have stepped back, the minotaur took one of her thin wrists easily in his meaty hand and moved it away from her chest as though she was as weak as a child.

She gasped and tried to cover both of her small breasts with the remaining hand. “What? Release me you foul beast!”

Normally the type to snarl a retort at being referred to by the nasty slur, Hakar just chuckled again and adjusted his grip. He took both of her wrists easily in one hand and wretched both of her arms up and away from her body.

Lyandra cried out in pain, half expecting him to tear her arms clean from her shoulders - a feat she had seen beasts like him do with ease. But past the initial yank he only held her.

Then his free hand began to paw at one of her breasts. His massive palm easily able to spread over the side of her small ribcage, fingers at her back and thumb positioned perfectly to rub roughly at a nipple through the gossamer fabric.

“S-stop!” Lyandra cried, blushing in affronted outrage as the odd sensation jolted through her body. No one had ever touched her like that. Not even her own fingers past what was required to dress and undress. She squirmed against his iron-wrought grip to no avail.

She tried another angle.

“P-please! We are allies are we not? Against the horrible d-dragon!” She felt like crying as her voice caught when the minotaur decided to pinch the bud between thumb and forefinger.

He cocked his head and smirked, rubbing the now stiff, pert nipple between his digits. “I’m someone’s ally certainly… But as I recall you were too busy being a high-bred elven bitch to attend negotiations.”

“Wh-what?” Lyandra’s eyes widened and she renewed her struggling.

“Now now Hakar…” A smooth, saccharine female voice cooed and the distinctive click of high-heels echoed in the ruined cathedral.

The woman who entered was paler even than Lyandra, unnaturally so with a distinct purple flush rather than any natural color undertones. Likewise the long fall of silky, black hair did not shine even a hint of a brown or mahogany but a deep plum. Dark amethyst horns were spouted from her temples and arched back in elegant curves, dripping with thin, gold chains and uncut garnets. Her horns were larger now than they ever had been before... As if they’d recently grown. 

She wore layers of velvet and silk and gold that were better suited to a noble than an adventurer, like she was some kind of reigning monarch.

As it turned out, that’s exactly what she was. Now.

Lyandra could have cried out in relief. “Vysenna! Vyssena please help me. We have been b-”

“Betrayed?” Vyssena laughed and the sound could have curdled milk. The hell-touched sorceress raised a long-nailed hand to underline her words with an artful shrug. “Well, yes. I suppose you have.”

The elven woman continued to squirm and fight the minotaur who held her, not quite yet comprehending. “You must help me, we have to find the others and -”

Vyssenna rolled her eyes and the smirk on her face turned sour. “Will you be QUIET? Are you truly this daft?”

That did stun Lyandra into silence.

Hakar chuckled again.

“You haven’t even realized? You aren’t worth whatever brains you do have in that pretty little head of yours.”

The sorceress walked to the center of the raised altar at the forefront of the cathedral. It wasn’t the kind of throne one would see in use of a king or a traditional royal court, but when she settled herself there, crossed one leg over the other and cocked her head to stare down at her druid compatriot… It was hard to think of it anything but.

“It’s a good thing it’s not your brains that I’ve promised Hakar for his fealty.”

Lyandra gasped, shuddering with dread as she began to comprehend her situation.

The minotaur behind her barked out a laugh that had her shuddering for an entire different reason. His hand moved from her breast, finally releasing the nipple he’d been abusing and clapped his fingers instead over one of the meaty globes of her ass, thumb slowly teasing down the cleft between.

“Unhand me!” Lyandra called out to her powers, the natural world was all around her now that she was once again on the surface.

Still, even above ground under the warmth of the sunlight… nothing heeded her desperate call.

Her eyes went wide. “What?”

Vyssena laughed once again, this time a single, cruel bark, and leaned back on her newly-claimed throne. “Oh you poor, dumb thing… You think the divine powers of nature are still yours to call?”

Lyandra gaped at the sorceress. “Of course they are! They would never abandon me in a time of need. They are mine to wield by right of birth and purity of -”

“Purity of purpose… Yes. So I’ve heard.” Vyssenna pantomimed a flapping mouth with her immaculately manicured hand. “Oh, but wait!”

She raised a finger to her lips and tapped them, a mockery of thoughtfulness.

“Didn’t you just last evening help convince a Cleric of the Divine Flame to bind her will to a demonic power?”

Lyandra opener her mouth once again to speak but Hakar quickly covered her mouth with his massive hand.

Vyssena clapped her hands lightly and made a pleased noise. “Oh! Hakar you wonderous man. What have I done to deserve you.”

The minotaur laughed even while Lyandra’s eyes narrowed at the use of the word ‘man’ to describe the beast that held her. Not that she could do much to voice the opinion.

“Yes, as I was saying.” Vysenna continued. “Our dear Phiandre was so opposed to the idea. She never would have went through with it if not for all of the help convincing her. Ephriam is, of course, to blame and don’t think that he isn’t getting a just reward of his own.”

The sorceress’s eyes narrowed in a way that seemed to be uniquely associated with mention of the wizard.

“But our dear, pious, sweet Phiandre would never have agreed if you hadn’t been so sure it was the…” At this Vyssena put on a mocking impression of the elf’s voice and cadence. “Only way to stop the greatest evil our world has yet known and save countless innocents.”

The sorceress paused. “Isn’t that right?”

Lyandra’s eyes went wide. 

Of course Vyssena had another dagger to deliver home. “You know she was quite taken with you. Told me more than once that if not for your race’s proclivities and prejudices she would have asked you for your hand. All official-like. You could have had a very happily ever after.”

Lyandra couldn’t believe what she was hearing… Phia never. Not once. She would have. Had she only asked. 

Vyssena laughed again. Like a cruel child. “Oh-ho! I do love this part. Regret is such a delightful spice to life when it’s someone else’s.”

The sorceress snapped her fingers and something made a shuffling sound in one of the other corridors. Lyandra’s elf ears could hear even the softest sounds.

It was Phiandre. Their Cleric of the Divine Flame.

But… this couldn’t be the same woman.

The Phia Lyandra knew, maybe even had loved, was young and fiery and above all proud. She had worn gleaming armor of copper and bronze scales and her head was always held fierce and high and proud.

This girl came in on her knees, eyes hazy with something that Lyandra didn’t at all like. She was entirely nude, every inch of her beautiful bronze-tanned skin barred as she hobbled in. Phia had been fit, just as any adventurer had to be, but Lyandra had never seen her naked before. Lyandra had assumed that the younger woman had a figure like hers. But naked it was plain that the girl who had always been covered in armor was different from her lithe, elven companion. Her flanks were round, glorious curves of thighs and ass and her breasts swung heavy and pendulous as she trundled forward. Her dusky nipples large and erect. The thick dark curls that she had always worn in an unobtrusive, utilitarian plait down the back of her neck were now braided in a manner that was disturbing in its ornate opulence. It was as foreign as anything else about her appearance.

When the cleric came to the center of the cathedral she climbed the steps to the altar where Vyssena sat like a reigning monarch. This terrifyingly demure version of her friend then turned to kneel at the sorceress’s heel like a trained hound.

Lyandra’s voice finally broke on a cry when she wiggled her face free of Hakar’s grip.

The new uprightness of her position revealed the sigil around her neck - the one that Ephriam had made to bind the cleric’s divine power to Vyssena’s unholy sorcery. But instead of the single leather string that Phia had tied around her neck at the outset, it was now attached to a thick, solid collar of shimmering gold.

“Wh-what have you done?” Lyandra sobbed.

“Oh, you mean this?” Vyssena flicked a finger against the collar. “Just secured myself a source of limitless divine power of course.” The demoness, for that was surely what she was now, cocked her head. “Convenient, no?”

Lyandra forced her words through the painful ache in her chest and encroaching feeling of defeat. “But, it was only ever supposed to be temporary! She can remove it whenever she wishes!”

“Of course.” Vyssena clucked. “But an enterprising sorceress can find all manner of ways to convince someone to keep on a pretty bauble. Isn’t that right pet?”

Vyssena stroked a hand against Phia’s cheek and the nubile woman leaned into her touch like an obedient hound, eyes closing contentedly and seeming to be completely at ease.

“You are truly evil!” Lyandra screamed. “You would betray us after all we have been through?”

“After all the abuse? After all the prejudice and half truths and empty promises?” Vyssena’s eyes flared red, as though this had been a long time coming. The sigil at Phia’s throat burned white hot and the dark woman gasped at the sensation. “None of you ever really trusted me, never accepted a demon in your ranks. You most of all should have expected after-”

The demoness paused and took a moment. Adjusted her skirts and smoothed her hair. She coughed primply.

“You know, that’s enough of that. I don’t want to be the type to monologue when there are so many more…” Now it was Vyssena’s turn to lick her forked tongue out over her blood-red lips. “Pleasurable ways to spend our time. And Hakar has been ever so patient. I am sorry my good man, you’ll be wanting your reward.”

Lyandra had been distracted. The immediate threat of the hulking beastman behind her swam back into the forefront of her mind as his hand slid forward, between her legs and he snorted heavy breath over her shoulder.

“Why yes, my queen.” He said, his voice husky and even more bovine than before. “If it would please you, I would be honored to claim my prize right here. So that you might enjoy the show.”

She may have been inexperienced, but she was not entirely naive. More tears welled up in eyes as she realized what was well and truly happening.

“N-no please Vyssena. You cannot let him do thi-thi-AH!” Lyandra babbled as one of Hakar’s fingers wiggled its way between her virgin folds through the thin fabric, toying when he found the nub he was looking for. Her face flushed in shame and horror as the rough calluses of his finger and the silken fabric teased her. She was far too terrified to recognize the pleasure for what it was, or connect the other responses of her body to it. Her nipples were as hard and pert as Phia’s now and her cunt was moistening slowly but surely at his attention.

Vyssena smiled. “It would certainly please me, although I’m afraid I don’t have much to help you break in your new toy. She’ll certainly be less accommodating than this pet.” The demoness reached down and pinched one of the big, dusky nipples hanging so nicely within her reach. Like with the simple caress, Phia did not pull away, her clouded eyes only opening in a muted kind of surprise and then fluttering shut in hazy bliss. “And if you ruin her cunt on your first go with that tent-pole of yours she won't be easy to replace.”

Hakar grunted and Lyandra couldn’t help but sob as she felt that very tent pole against her back as his finger slid lower - not entering her but sliding between her folds, making a mess of the fabric of the see-through dress and pulling her close. “Elves are hardy. They make for the best broodmares in the land. S’why I was so grateful you saw fit to reward me with this cunt.”

Lyandra had heard the stories of course, of the beast man raids of other, lesser tribes of her people. What these horrible creatures did to the men and women alike that they took prisoner. She could only hope for death.

Then the tip of his massive finger tried to wiggle up into her and she cried out in pain. Gods but even his finger must be bigger than a man’s cock! Surely he would rip her in half even like this.

Hakar groaned at the tight, incredibly tight, warmth he felt even through the fabric.

“By the Old Ones the bitch is tight though! Perhaps you are right my queen.” His opposite hand pinched painfully at one of her nipples again. He was holding her aloft entirely now, her delicate feet not even touching the stone floor. It seemed effortless for him to hold her even as she struggled. “But she’s got another hole... and if I ruin that one, well, it’s not like she’s going to need it anymore.”

Vyssena barked another cruel laugh. “Even better!” She cackled.

Before Lyandra could ask the wretched beast or the horrible demoness what was meant by this, Hakar flipped her upside down. With as little effort as he had held her before. She squeaked and the shapeless dress would have fallen down over her head if not for his big hands on either of her hips to hold it. Here she could see just what horrible fate awaited her: the loincloths at the Minotaur’s hips had been pushed aside, and while she not entirely eye-level with the thing (Hakar’s body was so large and her’s was so small that she did not even reach his crotch like this) she could see the massive cock and heavy, swollen balls.

The thing was longer than her torso! Far thicker than her arm, she would not have been able to get even both hands together around its girth.

Held like this, the tears on her cheeks fell easily as she started to weep properly. Begging for their mercy. “P-please no... You c-can’t. You will b-break me.” Lyandra babbled, unable to find her voice to scream or yell.

Hakar moved his hands to her thighs and pried them open easily so that she could feel his hot, moist breath when he huffed out a deep throated laugh on her most private parts. “That’s the idea.”

Lyandra nearly vomited. She gagged in revulsion but nothing came.

She expected another one of those human-cock sized fingers to plunge into her virgin womanhood, but instead he re-adjusted his hands once again and pulled at her with his thumbs. Lyandra head was swimming with a deep, primal fear she couldn’t guess what he was doing until the tip of his long, flat bovine tongue probed sharply into the tight pucker of her equally virgin ass.

Her mouth flew open in a silent scream, all air gone from her lungs as the minotaur began to mercilessly push and wriggle his tongue into her. Even this felt like she was being speared by a great weapon. The only reason he was able to push past the hot, clenching tightness of her passage was the slick wetness of saliva and the force of the big muscle.

Lyandra could barely breathe, she wanted to die. She felt as though she must be dying, ripping and tearing around this wet, sloppy intrusion. By the time she felt the wiry hair of his snout against the flesh of her ass she swore his tongue must be snaked so far into her that it would surely replace her own in her mouth.

Of course he was far from done, Hakar pulled his tongue out of her, wriggling it back and forth all the way back until he flicked it out with a pop. 

“Like that elf bitch?”

She couldn’t find her breath to do anything, much less respond.

Hakar spat into her hole, which even after one pass with his tongue was barely able to close. The rim was already puffy and red and it could only wink half-way to close before it fluttered back open. He ran his rough tongue around the rim.

“See? Just like a good broodmare to-be… Your elven holes open right up to the beast man cock your kind was made for.”

She clenched her eyes shut, eyelashes thoroughly wet with tears. “N-no that’s not… I will never..”

He just laughed and stabbed his tongue back into her without preamble.

Lyandra’s voice cracked on something almost like a scream this time. 

Hakar could feel the way her body was shaking in his hands, and he could smell the arousal and wetness of her jealous cunt. Even if she couldn’t feel it yet through the terror, he could already tell just how easy she would be to train. They all were. Their bodies were made for his.

He withdrew his tongue and set her mind spinning again as he righted her with just as little warning and tore the green fabric from her body as easily as he would brush away grass.

She whimpered at the last vestige of cover gone.

“A cunt doesn’t need wrapping.”

He held her underneath one armpit and by one leg, and Lyandra realized she was now facing Vysenna who had uncrossed her legs and parted her skirts as she’d watched her defilement.

Lyandra gaped as she realized that Vysenna had both man and womanhood as the demoness was idly stroking a thick, purple cock with one hand and playing with soft feminine folds beneath it.

“You like that, do you cunt?” Hakar asked huskily behind her. “You like that demon cock do you?”

“N-no… I..” Lyandra stammered.

“I’ve got a better cock right here for you.”

And she felt it! Oh gods, ancestors, anyone please save her! She could feel the hot, weeping tip pressed against her already abused and opened asshole. She wouldn’t just die, she would be cleaved in twain. Impaled on the foul dick of a beast!

But he pushed inside her nonetheless.

Oh gods! It was so much! She choked and gurgled, tears tracking freely down her pretty cheeks as she felt the ring of her entrance tear and the slickness of what must have been blood as he pushed without care forward. He was insistent and steady, pushing in without care, breath hot and heavy and disgusting on her neck as he grunted in pleasure.

“So tight… wonder if it’ll ever be this tight again after my cock is done here.”

Hakar was only able to progress by the twin action of forcing his hips up and pulling her down, spearing her on his massive rod.

She felt as though she could not breathe, it was like he was forcing all the air out of her to make room for his cock. And Gods the pain! Hakar grunted again and made his first violent thrust upward and she thought surely this was it, she was broken. But when she looked down instead she saw herself not torn but stretched around the horrific intrusion, a small bulge of her normally flat belly.

Lyandra managed a whimper.

The beast groaned. “Not even all the way in bitch, just you wait.” 

True to his word he began to force her down further and she could see the bulge grow with each immeasurable inch he pushed inside. The unyielding press of his massive cock seemed to burn her like hot iron from the inside, sparks of pain coursed up her spine with his progress. She was out of breath with the strain of it by the time he stopped, beads of sweat tracking between her breasts.

Until at last he stopped.

But Lyandra felt no relief. He had stilled only because he had fully sheathed himself inside her. It like her whole body was being painfully re-shaped around his monster cock. Her stomach distended further the length and bulk of him and even worse still she could feel the sweaty heat of his heavy balls bottomed out against the bleeding ring of her abused asshole.

She was well and truly wrecked forever. Lyandra wished death would just take her.

Vyssena groaned from where she sat, sinking down in her sitting position and toying with the tip of her own cock, leaking opalescent offerings of its own.

“You look good like that Lyandra.” The demoness cooed, and the way that she used her proper name was almost worse than the way the beast referred to her as an object and by low slurs. Her name made this so much more real. This was really happening to her: Lyandra en T’ithani of the ancient Lythane, daughter of the forest and druid of nature’s purity.

She sobbed openly, unable to stop herself from mewling like a youngling. She’d never be that again. Even when this beast killed her, she would never see the Trees Beyond the Stars now that she had been defiled like this.

The demoness tsk’d at her former comrade. “There there, you’ll get used to it. Grow to love it I expect. It was, after all, your idea to promise that wretched hunter my body when you sent him after me. You must have been projecting your own perversions.”

That wrenched her out of her self-pity for a moment. There was no way that Vyssena could have known. She had been so careful. She hadn’t told anyone.

Not even Phia.

“Yes… of course I knew. What do you take me for, someone who gets caught by underhanded betrayal?” Vyssena snarled again, showing inhumanly sharp teeth and the sigil flared around Phia’s neck again. “I will thank you for opening my eyes though. I really thought that you had all accepted me. I owe you for the reminder. Of course no one could ever trust a demon. I’d almost forgotten.”

“Oh, and for the idea of course. I’m so happy Hakar was willing to volunteer.”

“My pleasure.” The minotaur grunted and rolled his hips slowly into her and Lyandra gagged dryly. Then stroked his hand over his cock through the pronounced swell of her belly. “Happy to oblige.”

If she thought she was sobbing harder then, she knew nothing of what was to come. He grabbed at one of her tender, raw breasts in his rough hands, put the other back onto her thigh, and pushed her back up the seemingly unending length of cock. Lyandra didn’t even have a realize the miraculous way her stomach went right back to the perfect smoothness it had always been when he’d pulled back, before Hakar fucked the entire length of his monster Minotaur cock back into her.

She screamed and it echoed over the worn stones of the old cathedral, stones that were as battered and ruined as her ass surely was. 

OH GODS IT BURNED.

He fucked up into her and speared her down in impressively concerted actions that were utterly brutal. Forcing his cock upwards and pulling at her hips combining to set a punishing pace. 

Lyandra was gasping at nothing, vision going fuzzy from pain and missed breaths as Hakar rammed himself inside her ass over and over again. Even with the slickness of his cock and his tongue before the friction of his length against her - gods somehow still tight - walls, it felt as though he would set her ablaze from the inside out. Maybe he was just that warm. The heat of him all around her, inside her, was inescapable.

His heavy balls slapped against her supple flesh each time he fully seated himself back inside. The sound was lewd, wet smacks each time his straining sack hit her moistened cunt. Because despite it all, Lyandra’s still-virgin cunt was responding indeed the battering that her ass was taking, to the constant rough-handling of her bouncing breasts. Her soft, silky folds were flushing pink and growing slick even through the cruelty of Hakar’s attentions. The physical response of her body immune to the revulsion she felt.

In stark contrast while Vyssena was panting herself, the demoness’s breath was sultry and she was completely aware of the pleasures her body was feeling - blissfully complemented by the mental satisfaction of her victory. She tugged at Phia’s collar with her hands, fingers dripping with the physical leavings of her arousal. It smudged and dripped on the dark skin of girl’s chin and jaw at Vyssena’s touch but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead the collared cleric crawled forward between Vyssena’s spread thighs and lowered her head to obediently lick and suckle at the demoness’s womanly parts. 

Vyssena sighed in satisfaction and sensation alike and continued to stroke her cock with her own hand while her pet worked below. She timed each stroke with Hakar’s brutal thrusts into the babbling elf bitch before her. Her hand had to move fast, the minotaur was fucking Lyandra at a truly feral pace and the elf’s eyes had nearly rolled back into her head under the onslaught of pain, pleasure and humiliation. It was a cocktail that had Vyssena edging towards orgasm faster than she ever had before.

Lyandra’s breasts were bouncing in time with Hakar’s thrusts, his balls slapping against her tender flesh only half a beat behind. Helpless, pathetic cries were dribbling out of her mouth just as tears freely rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t know how long he’d been going or when he’d ever stop, his breath was hot on her neck and his dick was a blazing hot fire inside of her. 

His blistering pace faltered with a few unfinished, shallow thrusts and Hakar grunted a wet snarl into the juncture of her neck and her shoulder. He finally let go of her poor breast and splayed his fingers out over the whole of her chest and he slammed her down one final time to the root.

The elven woman cried out, surely her hips were shattered and she felt…

No… GODS NO.

With another grunt from Hakar Lyandra felt the truly searing heat of his release deep inside her. It was like the worst inversion of relieving herself. Her raw, abused channel filled up with his throbbing beast cock, her dainty silhouette already bulging around the massive insertion, but she could somehow still feel the horrid burst of hot wetness inside her coming from his cock. She truly wanted to die, wished for it and would have begged for it if her trembling lips could have found words.

Instead her body writhed, impaled and held spread on his cock for the cruel amusement of a twisted, vengeful mind. She could feel each twitch and spurt of his foul seed inside her and it was as unrelenting as his thrusts into her had been before. 

It just kept coming. HE just kept coming.

Worse her belly kept growing, as if he was pumping her full.

“St-stop, p-please…” She stammered weakly over a barely audible sob.

Hakar didn’t respond, still grunting through the pleasure of his release. He just kept coming. None of this could have been physically possible. It wasn’t natural.

He finally finished, she could only assume, because he tucked his head down over her slim shoulder as if to survey the extent of his handiwork. Lyandra’s entire body felt sore and stretched utterly used but at least he had finally stopped moving. She felt as dizzy and undone as she did defeated. Her long auburn hair was slick with sweat between his chest and her back and anything that escaped was sweat-soaked and lying limply against her chest underneath his hand. 

Lyandra’s head had fallen immediately to her shoulder, her strength all but literally fucked out of her. She finally lifted head head only to see, past Hakar’s massive hand across her chest, the great ugly swell of her belly. It was all she could see looking down.

Oh GODS. She was pregnant! 

No, should couldn’t be. Not so soon! And not - obviously not if he had spilled his seed in her, in her…

“NO!” At the combined disgust of the entire ordeal she wretched weakly, dryly. Her body convulsed and she certainly would have fallen if not the obvious hold Hakar had outside and inside her body.

The minotaur beast-man chuckled and the deep bass of his voice vibrated through her entire body, jostling his cock where it was still seated inside her. She felt it and heard, with a disgusting wet slop, some of his seed slip out of her and hit the stone floor.

“Still fiesty, eh?” He laughed again and trailed his hand down her chest over the swell of her bloated, mock-pregnant, belly. “Most of them get that fucked of their system right away. This’ll be fun.”

Then his big hand began to press down on her belly and - OH GODS!

“HAKAR!”

Vyssena’s voice. In a tone that could not be mistaken for anything but a command.

“Hakar, leave her like that. I want to finish.”

Lyandra heart was still racing but she blearily turned her gaze to where Vyssena sat.

The demoness had one leg slung over Phia’s bare shoulder and the other spread wide to give the girl some room to work. The top few inches of Vyssena’s cock was visible over Phia’s shoulder - the demoness’s cock long and thick enough that Lyandra would have thought it terrifying, if she wasn’t still impaled on one even more monstrous.

Vyssena was breathing heavily, though her breasts still contained in the corseted gown she wore her, pale skin had a characteristic purple flush to it.

With a soft, stuttered exhale the demoness finished her cock off with her hand before her voice keened upwards and Phia’s head bowed further between her legs to finish her there. Her cock shot ropes of pearlescent seed over the naked girl’s shoulder and it landed on the stone floor with a sickening patter of its own while Vyssena’s hand instead dug fingers into Phia’s hair and forced her head down further.

Lyandra ached, but maybe her heart ached most of all.

After a few more moments Vyssena relaxed and her breathing once again evened to her sardonic standard. She pushed Phia from between her legs and crossed them with equal parts nonchalance and elegance, it would have been an impressive gesture if Lyandra could look at her former ally with anything but exhausted rage.

“There.” The demoness said with a drawn out but obvious satisfaction. “Isn’t that better?”

Then she paused when something seemed to catch her eye that displeased her. She snapped her fingers. “Phia! How dare you leave a mess.”

She pointed to the streaks of seed her own cock had shot onto the floor.

As if Lyandra hadn’t seen and experienced enough horrors Phia looked once to Vyssena and then immediately crawled forward to where the seed had fallen. Without a blink of her hazy eyes she lowered her head to the floor and began to lick up Vyssena’s spend. Her ample breasts squished against the stone beneath her and her ass in the air.

Like some kind of kitten.

“No- no, please…” Lyandra whined. Defeated, exhausted and fucked into submission by a beast man’s cock she should do nothing but plea. “P-please Vyssena you have me, l-let her go…”

Vysenna looked up from where she had been obviously eyeing Phia’s raised ass that was perfectly presented to her in the girl’s position on the floor. “Oh?”

The demoness laughed. “Oh, you’re not mine at all you stupid elf bitch. Phia is worth so, so much more than your worthless cunt will ever be. You were nothing but a pawn to be traded. Hakar can do whatever he wants with you. Your cunt, your ass, your womb, your breasts. They’re all his to use as he sees fit.”

“You cannot!” Lyandra cried weakly.

Vysenna interrupted. “Although I DO wish that he would quiet your incessant yapping! Hakar, you’ll need to have her trained.”

Once gain the foul beast at her back, in her ass still, laughed and her entire body rumbled along with him. More of his seed slipped from where they were joined. “Aye my mistress and I will quite enjoy that. Perhaps you’d like to see one more show?”

Vyssena arched an eyebrow. “Proceed. Tame the mouthy elven cunt. I’m curious.”

Lyandra’s heart began to race again, her ass was wrecked but now he would be taking her true womanhood? Why couldn’t she simply die? Gods above please just take her!

But her didn’t pull out of her ass, he simply moved his hands over her body once again, each motion causing waves of nausea and disgust as she could feel his seed slop around inside and drip out of her. One hand came back up to her chest to hold her tightly, while the other, that she couldn’t see from around the grotesque swell of her belly moved as well. Then -

“Ah!” Lyandra gasped.

Vysenna’s mouth curled into a horrible smirk.

Hakar’s fingers toyed with her womanhood, but did not push up between her folds as they had before. Instead his fingers toyed with the wet lips there, stroked the outside petals and played almost delicately with the sensitive flesh there. His fingers were rough but he was almost gentle. Her hips twisted weakly and though each wiggle made her spine jolt and the slop in her stomach churn there was an unmistakable warmth between her legs that was nothing like the rough burn in the stretched, abused channel of her ass.

Her mind was too foggy to think but this felt… this felt different. She let out a long exhausted sigh and when he found the nub he was seeking once again with his rough fingers she made a sharp cry and a shudder that she could feel jerked his cock around inside her.

“There’s a good bitch.” The minotaur whispered in his ear and then he began to rub and paw at that little nub and her world went electric.

Her hips were breaking and coming together and he was still inside of her and all around her and Vyssena was...

She could think of nothing. 

She could think of everything.

Ephriam, Ro’yn, Aiden. The dragon. They were supposed to defeat a dra-

She gasped. She keened. His cock stirred inside her again.

Vyssena. The betrayer. They were betrayed. She was betrayed.

She -

She had betrayed.

Sparks behind her eyes. Everything was fuzzy. His fingers kept moving. Rough and relentless.

Betrayed. 

Phia…

Her vision whited out.

Then went black.

Vyssena laughed.

The elven bitch passed out when the orgasm overtook her, and really it was only to be expected. It had been quite a show and quite an orgasm. Even with Hakar’s dick plugging up her filthy asshole, the way her body had convulsed with pleasure at the end had sprayed Hakar’s seed everywhere.

Vyssena considered making Phia clean it up as she had with her own, it would be pleasant to watch but she didn’t much like the idea of tainting Phia’s mouth with minotaur cum or elven shit. Still Hakar had done all she had asked of him and it wasn’t as if she could expect him to walk back to his people with his dick sleeved inside an unconscious elf, even though the image of it was one she might use later to entertain herself.

“Thank you Hakar. I think that’s all I shall require of you now. You can look forward to a visit from me soon, I should like to what you can make of your new broodmare.”

“My thanks to you my queen.” Hakar inclined his head, still cradling Lyandra’s unconscious body with her swollen belly. He stroked over her stomach idly with a distinct gentleness. “What would you like me to do with this?”

He would have been loath to waste the seed if he had released in her cunt, his people needed new foals, but his seed wasn’t getting anything on her up her ass.

Vyssena made a complex swirling gesture with her hands and fingers, wrist turning to sculpt the magic from every angle. Dark smoke formed and it coalesced into a solid shape at the snap of her fingers. A large, golden, bulbous plug. She tossed it to him and it went aided by more magic. The thing was quite heavy. 

“Consider this one more gift from your magnanimous new Queen.”

He caught it of course. Smart, capable man.

“You are truly too kind.”

He was dexterous too. He managed to pull Lyandra’s body off of his cock and replace it with the heavy plug quite deftly, spilling only a little more. She could just banish that away.

The minotaur readjusted his half-hard cock back beneath the leathers of the loin cloth layers and bowed his head one final time. He cradled Lyandra’s still swollen body easily in on arm. “I shall take my leave then, my Queen.”

“Take my blessing back to your people.” She smiled.

Once he’d gone she stood, setting off the chambers she’d claimed for herself in the one remaining tower of the cathedral. Phia crawled after her of course.

Vyssena had a letter to write.

She could have simply opened communications by magic, but unlike her former allies she wasn’t stupid enough to open a magical link with a potential enemy. And even for a demon come fully into her power with a divine source at her command, it was wise to keep one’s wits about them when dealing with Dragons.


	2. Vysenna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of a demoness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO social isolation! I'm finally able to stay home for a while and that means a return to writing. I don't quite have a schedule planned out, I'll continue writing and posting as the muse strikes. This is a chapter that I had started for a while as a bit of a character exploration and I have a fun idea for it to lead to.
> 
> Once again, all content warnings apply. Lots of non/dub-con and wacky fantasy/magical sex that could never really happen (which is why it's so much fun to write). There is a bit of an overarching story line and some of the characters will be recurring or mentioned. I do recommend reading the first chapter. In the notes for the first chapter I did mention that I am always happy to hear comments, questions and requests for kinks/character archetypes! They would delight me.

Vyssena slept easy. She didn’t let her guard down of course, not ever. The demoness had stalked about the cathedral and its grounds, Phia at her heels, and sewn every enchantment, charm, curse and hex that she knew of to lock down the place she’d chosen as the seat of her new power. Contingencies on top of contingencies. And all of that went double for her personal chambers.

She wasn’t going to let some stupid oversight ruin her end game. She was smarter than that. Vyssena was confident in her work and the tightening vice of her control that her machinations assured her. 

But when her work was done she slept. She may be a demoness but she needed the rest for her spell work to be at its most potent, divine battery at her beck and call or not. Vyssena slept deep and comfortably.

Guilt never factored into her mind. 

Everything she’d done they’d all deserved and everything she had planned was something she eagerly awaited. She still had Aiden and Ro’yn spelled and chained in the cathedral’s catacombs, charmed into a deep sleep for the time being. That would be a show indeed - like saving the finest vintage bottle of wine for a particularly worthwhile occasion.

All things considered she was sleeping better than she ever had before, and there was more to it than the beautiful, veiled bed she’d summoned out of some noble-nobody’s holdings and Phia’s convenient use as an ever-willing bed warmer. Lyandra had gotten what she deserved, the bitch. With any luck she’d be knocked up and popping out beast men get - calves, foals whatever it was they called their young. The sooner the better. As long as they were wrecking her elven cunt.

The dragons, the big one and the lesser ones seemed pleased with her terms too. As damn well they should be. Eld knew how close they had come to his defeat, that much was clear. Maybe their plan wouldn’t have worked flawlessly, but it had been a near enough thing that it had scared him. And… Oh, hadn’t that been a unique pleasure: to see fear creep into the eyes of an elder dragon. She almost wished someone else had been there to see it.

She certainly hadn’t needed to sweeten her bargain with an extra gift after that. She was just that magnanimous.

Vyssena yawned and stretched the sleep from her limbs, arching her elegant arms above her head in a lazy arc. The horizon blazed with all the colors of sunset outside of the tall tower window. The demoness pushed back the layers of fine silks and likewise stretched her long, supple legs off the side of the big four-poster bed before she let her feet touch the stone floor. 

She slept nude of course, a Peeping Tom catching her asleep was truly the least of her problems and moreover she rested better without the feel of clothes constraining her body. Vyssena stood and her cock swung between her legs, long and heavy even when she was barely hard. It was a wonder she had hidden it from her companions for so long. 

The only one who had figured her out was Ephriam and that had only been because they were… well… they had made a go at intimacy. She should never have sucked him off before she had made him return the favor. One look at her cock and the pretty artificer had run off scared. Vyssena expected there was some history there, which was precisely why she had laid a very specific curse upon him when she finally achieved her victory. Equal parts spite and utility.

Her cock stiffened at the thought of the man who’d scorner her, banished to the deepest and wildest parts of the world where none of his intricately crafted magics could help him and beset by an overwhelming craving for the biggest, hardest, fattest cock that he would be able to find there. Ephriam was strong willed, but he would crack eventually under the power of her newly-divine infused spellwork and contemplating what horrible, huge beast he would finally let fuck him was enough to bring her to full hardness.

Vysenna barely had time to stroke herself up and down before Phia had slid herself off the bed and crawled towards her, always the obedient pet ready to do her duty. The girl was nude, as always, Vysenna saw no need to clothe her even in colder weather since Phia still burned with the heat of her divine fire. That fire may be Vysenna’s to abuse but it would still keep Phia warm and safe against the elements.

Plus she liked keeping the girl who had once been so holy and virtuous bared for the whole world to see: paraded around like the pretty toy she was.

Phia knelt between Vysennas legs. At a nod from Vysenna she began to work her mouth up the shaft of the demoness’s cock with wet, eager licks. It was nice enough. Vysenna let Phia continue for a while until she grew bored. She did have important business to attend to today.

When Phia opened her mouth properly, Vysenna took hold of her head with both hands and thrust inside the open wetness. The demoness forced her cock straight down into the girl’s throat without warning or care. Phia gagged and choked on the thickness, her clouded eyes watering, but she opened her mouth wider and allowed her mistress to use her without any resistance. 

Vyssena did just that.

Forcing Phia’s face down into her crotch with each thrust forward, she fucked into the girl’s throat like her mouth was simply a sleeve to be used.

That’s what she was after all.

Vysenna made a particularly violent thrust and she could feel Phia’s pained reaction as she fought to breath through the onslaught. That did it. She pulled her cock out from Phia’s throat just as quickly, in time to unload herself on Phia’s face and breasts. 

Shimmering ropes of white seed against her pet’s dark skin was a pretty picture, but Vysenna could barely find the energy to care. It had been such a heady pleasure at first, the defilement of the once prim and righteous Phiandre but Vysenna was willing to admit to herself that this was becoming rather old hat now. Phia’s was certainly pleasing to the eye and the real power she provided was not to be discounted, but she was becoming more of a tool than a toy. There was no denying she served a purpose, but it was only the head between Vysenna’s legs that cared much anymore.

So the demoness stood and dressed, wrapping herself in the beautiful silks and dripping herself in the gold and gems she favored. Phia sat perched on her knees like a particularly obedient dog. The gown Vysenna summoned today did not cover her breasts at all, but cupped underneath them so they could be bared openly and she could feel the cool metal of all of the opulence at her neck drape down over them. She fingered a nipple, purple similar the same flush and undertones of her coloring.

She prepared to go about her work when something tingled at the edge of her senses, one of her wards had been tripped. It didn’t alarm her, it wasn’t one of the powerful wards that she had set at the center of her woven web of protections. The ringing ward was one furthest cast in the net, something to give her an early alert of anything of consequence moving through her new domain.

The demoness’s eyes flashed as she let the magic of the farsight take her vision to the sight of the disturbance.

A wicked smile spread across her mouth.

Her eyes refocused back to her rooms. With another pulse of her magics she adjusted the wards around her stronghold. This was a visitor she’d be more than happy to entertain. After so long playing and planning her games with only her former allies to move about the board, a brand new toy would be a welcome plaything indeed. 

“Phia.” Vyssenna snapped. “Clean yourself up. We’re expecting a guest.”


End file.
